her creamy skin. The way she pulled her dark hair severely back from her face combined with the sharply tailored business suits she favoured made the overall impression coldly keep-your-distance professional, not pretty or sexy. Which, he realised, was probably the point.
‘What about Angela? Or is it Emily?’ She flung an exasperated hand up. ‘That temp from Accounts.’
‘I think you must mean Ellie,’ he said. ‘It’s been over for a while. I’ve actually been out of the field myself this past month.’
He didn’t count yesterday’s one-night stand. Extra-short-term flings were the new thing.
She gave an amused sniff.
‘Am I supposed to feel an affinity with that? A month is hardly an abstention, is it? It’s more of a...breather.’
‘OK, so it doesn’t come close to your three-year cold spell,’ he said, ‘but it’s still been a deliberate step back.’
He took a breath, the hassle of the last few weeks zipping spectacularly through his mind in a haze of all-night repetitive phone calls and shredded clothes. Thankfully it seemed to be over now and he’d learned from his mistakes. From now on, clear caveats up front and no letting it run on too long. More than a month seemed to be code for women that moving in together was a realistic next step.
He shrugged. ‘Is it so unbelievable to you that I might want to take you out?’
* * *
Alice stared at him.
Actually, yes. Forgive me for being cautious but I have just discovered I’m the office joke.
‘How come you haven’t asked me out before, then?’ she asked. ‘Why now?’
‘You do have a bit of a...well, a reputation.’ He ran a hand through his dark hair, ruffling it, obviously struggling to put it tactfully.
She tensed. If he dared use the term ‘Ice-Queen’, murder might be on the cards.
‘Oh, really?’ she said.
‘As being a bit aloof. But you must have been asked out before, surely?’
‘A couple of times,’ she said. ‘A firm “no” has always been enough before.’
He grinned.
‘I don’t give up that easily. When I see something I want, I make sure I get it.’
She jumped a little at the muffled ping of the lift outside followed by a flurry of voices and footsteps. Her colleagues, pouring back into the office. She needed to regain her composure if she was going to go back out there. And if she wanted him to keep quiet about her little meltdown just now, it might pay to keep him onside.
Risk-free, he’d said. There was a small part of her that zoomed in on those two words.
Three years and she hadn’t so much as been out for a coffee with a man. She had anticipated the day she agreed to a date again would be some kind of milestone. Broken heart fully healed. Pain resigned to the distant past along with sewer-rat Simon and his photographs. But now it seemed the last three years of swearing off the opposite sex had been totally pointless. She was in exactly the same place now as she had been then—the butt of amused gossip. This time because she didn’t date instead of because she did.
Deep down her stomach twisted into agonising knots at the thought of putting herself back out there again. What the hell was wrong with staying in? She never got behind on any TV shows and it saved her a fortune in clothes.
The thought of going out with someone as dangerous as Harry Stephens was akin to playing with fire. But risk-free, he said.
In the face of the day she’d had, knowing how she was viewed by the entire office, she could see that a date with him might have its merits. She had to do something. Even a stupid ego-boosting date with the office lothario was something if it was done on her terms. And since what she wanted was to prove a point, wasn’t he the perfect choice? High profile in the circles she moved in. Gorgeous. And indiscreet—he wasn’t above dumping his conquests in full view of the office, seeming to revel in his reputation as a player. He’d be bound to tell half the office that he’d been out for a drink with the Ice-Queen. That would throw a spanner in the works of their sad little sweepstake. And she could always back out later if she changed her mind.
She had a choice: end this day as Ice-Queen Ford or accept the offer of a drink and at least be able to tell herself she had a date, no matter that it was with the most unsuitable man in the universe.
‘OK,’ she said impulsively.
He looked momentarily surprised and she realised he hadn’t really expected her to say yes. The idea that she was acting out of character spurred her on even more, offering a stab of what felt like excitement. Except it couldn’t be, because she didn’t do excitement.
Hah! Didn’t expect that, did he? Didn’t expect a yes from Ice-Queen Ford!
To his credit, he collected himself quickly.
‘Great,’ he said. ‘After work?’
The sudden scary reality of what she was doing kicked in and she scrabbled for thinking time.
‘Tonight’s difficult,’ she said. ‘I’m cooking for my flatmate.’ Never mind the fact that slave-to-the-ready-meal Tilly wouldn’t give a damn if she changed her plans.
A muffled laugh from outside the room made her tense. Was this how it was going to be? Thinking every chuckle in the office, every whispered conversation was about her? Enough was enough.
‘I’ll check my diary and let you know,’ she said.
* * *
‘If it bothers you that much—which it must do because it’s all you’ve talked about since you got home—give me one good reason why you aren’t just taking it to the top and getting the whole damn lot of them fired or reprimanded, or whatever it is you do in an office environment?’
Besides sharing a childhood and now a flat with Alice, Tilly sold ethnic jewellery at various markets, dabbled in various other off-the-wall jobs and had an ongoing role as Alice’s voice of reason. Now she pushed her chilli-pepper-red hair out of her eyes and leaned back against the kitchen counter while Alice put dinner together.
‘Because then I’d have to hand this piece of paper over to my boss.’ Alice brandished the betting pool under Tilly’s nose.
Tilly pulled a face.
‘Blimey, he’s not on the list, is he?’
She shook her head. ‘Not as far as I know. Thank goodness. At least there’s one man in the building who isn’t a chauvinist. But it would lead to a big investigation—I’d have to discuss it all in detail. I just can’t face the embarrassment of it all.’
The thought of slipping this piece of paper in front of the CEO filled her with dark horror at the way it portrayed her. Not just the Ice-Queen comment, but the very fact her colleagues were betting on her behaviour. All her hard work to build the perfect corporate image obviously hadn’t cut the mustard with
